


Bang bang (my baby shot me down) - English version

by Charlie_B_Duval



Category: Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Genre: AU at the start, Gen, kid!Freddy at the start, then canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 13:10:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4222950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie_B_Duval/pseuds/Charlie_B_Duval
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Bang bang, you shot me down</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Bang bang, I hit the ground</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Bang bang, that awful sound</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Bang bang, my baby shot me down</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>What if Larry and Freddy had already met, about twenty years before the heist?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bang bang (my baby shot me down) - English version

**Author's Note:**

> Name and inspiration : _Bang bang (my baby shoy me down)_ by Nancy Sinatra
> 
> I also wanted to say that I'm not a native English-speaker, so excuse my possible poor grammar. I hope you still will enjoy that little story

Larry had just celebrated his twenty-ninth birthday, the first time he arrived in Los Angeles. He had found a small apartment that had the merit of not being completely unhealthy; which, for the amount he could afford to put in a rent was a real miracle. The neighborhood was pretty quiet - he might be a thief, that did not mean he wanted to cross addicts every time he came or went out from home.  
The building was occupied mainly by old people and Mexican immigrants came looking for work to feed their families back home. Only one family lived there; a young woman who was about the same age that he was and her son, a little blond about four years old. The kid, Freddy, had decided that "Mr. Larry" was his best friend and came running to meet him as soon as Larry entered the building, his green eyes shining with excitement as he crashed into the legs of the young thief. 

-Mr. Larry, look!, he shouted happily one day, waving a plastic gun.  
-Freddy, leave Mr. Dimmick alone.  
-That's nothing, Mrs. Newandyke. He doesn't bother me. 

Then, to the toddler: 

-Woah, that's some gun you got here.  
-It's to stop the bad guys. Like Baretta does. When I grow up, I will be a policeman. Say, Mr. Larry, you wanna play with me?  
-If your mom agrees.  
-Can we go to the park, mama? 

Mrs Newandyke smiled and nodded. 

-You obey to Mr. Dimmick, ok, Freddy? And you do not cross the road without permission.  
-Thanks Mama! 

Then the boy grabbed his friend's hand and began to pull. 

-Go, Mr. Larry. 

The park was just across the block and they soon arrived. 

-So, what you want to play, kid?  
-Cop and thief, duh!, replied Freddy as if Larry's question was the stupidest he'd ever heard.  
-And I bet you're the cop, kiddo?  
-Yes, I Do! 

That's how, a few minutes later, Larry was lying in the grass, pretending to be dead while Freddy danced around him, singing "I got you, thief!", his voice full of giggles. 

* 

After that day, Freddy started to welcome Larry with a loud "Bang bang!" every time he saw him. The young robber always collapsed on the ground, one hand on his chest, while the kid laughed. 

* 

Larry had to leave Los Angeles in a hurry less than two years after his arrival in the city. He had fled during the night, without looking back. The next day, Freddy waited for his friend for hours, sitting on the steps of the building. 

*** 

-I will say nothing, Larry. Look in my eyes. I. Will. Say. Nothing. 

Larry looked into his big green eyes and saw the pure sincerity of the young man. When he did so, a long lost memory resurfaced; that of a little boy who pretended to shoot him with a plastic gun. Orange was the little Freddy; he finally ended up in the role of the thief. 

-Shh, kid, it'll be fine. 

Searching for his comb the inner pocket of his jacket, Larry leaned toward the young man's ear and whispered: 

-You remember, you used to shoot me down. You're going to recover just like I always did.  
A small giggle escaped Freddy's lips when Larry started to comb his bloody sticky hair. 

* 

How could Joe believe that the kid was the rat? How could he threaten him while the poor kid already bathed in his own blood? Shoot a man down? Joe and Eddie had got what they deserved. 

-Larry... I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm a cop, Larry. I'm sorry. 

A desperate sob escaped Larry's throat. 

-I'm sorry... Larry. Sorry. 

His face drown in tears and his throat tight, Larry put his revolver against Freddy's cheek with one hand and with the other he stroked the forehead of the kid to comfort him. 

-Sorry, Larry. Sorry, I'm... sorry. 

He pulled the trigger when the cops burst into the warehouse. Moments after he touched the ground, a bloody hole in the chest.


End file.
